Listed: Volume III by Noelle Adams Page B

hurried through the rest of the things
he needed to finish this evening.
    About
ten minutes later, someone brought up a sandwich for him, explaining that Mrs. Marino
had made it clear that he was supposed to eat it since he hadn’t had dinner.
    So
he ate the sandwich as he finished up.
    *
* *
    Emily was still in the
bath when he came into the bedroom almost an hour later. She’d either taken a
particularly long soak, or she hadn’t started immediately after she’d left him.
    It
wasn’t even eleven yet, but Paul was feeling tired and decided that going to
bed a little early wasn’t a bad idea.
    He
looked around the bedroom. The large, four-poster bed was beautifully made up
with elegant bedding. There was a Renaissance tapestry on one wall, and a huge,
Edwardian, gilt-framed mirror on the opposite wall above the dresser.
    He
took off his shoes, socks and belt and glanced over at the closed door that led
into the connecting bathroom. When Emily came out, he would need to take a
shower and not just because he’d had a long day.
    It
was getting harder and harder for him to keep his feelings for and responses to
her under control. Telling himself rational truths about her age, her illness,
and the shortness of their marriage didn’t seem to work like it used to. He
used to have strong defenses against the temptation she posed to him, but his
defenses were getting more and more battered.
    It
felt like Emily was his .
    And
Paul wanted to make her his all the way.
    He’d
reached behind his back to grab a fistful of his t-shirt to pull it off when
Emily came out of the bathroom.
    “Hey,”
she said, “Did you eat?”
    “I
ate. I didn’t dare risk your wrath otherwise.” He dropped his arm and turned
around to look at her as he spoke with a teasing quirk of his mouth.
    She
was laughing softly at his comment, and her blond hair was hanging in pretty
waves around her shoulders, but she wasn’t wearing any of her normal pajamas.
    She
wore a little nightgown. It was simple and casual—made of gray cotton knit with
thin straps. Its only ornamentation was a slim ribbon that tied just under her
breasts, but the simple silhouette flattered her small, lush figure, and the
flutter of the fabric around her thighs made him gulp.
    There
was no way to mistake the gown for an attempt to be seductive or tempting. It
was just as casual as most of the other nightwear she wore.
    But
it worked on Paul anyway. His body immediately tightened at the sight of her,
and he felt an almost painful tug of desire at his groin.
    Afraid
she would recognize his reaction, he turned around to face the dresser. He took
off his watch and set it down, mostly for something to do.
    “I’m
not really very wrathful, you know,” she said, responding to the earlier
comment he’d almost forgotten. She obviously had no idea how absolutely
irresistible he was finding her at the moment. “At least, as long as you do
what you’re supposed to do.”
    He
gave a huff of amusement, since he knew that was the appropriate response. He
was having a world of trouble not leering at her reflection in the wall mirror.
    “Sorry
I took so long in the bathroom,” she said, “Were you waiting long?”
    “No.”
His voice was too hoarse, but he couldn’t seem to clear it. “I just got up
here.” To give credence to his words, he grabbed the back of his shirt again
and this time actually pulled it off over his head. He opened a drawer to find
a pair of pajama pants to wear to bed.
    Emily’s
breath hitched audibly. “Oh, Paul,” she murmured, the words almost a caress.
    He
looked at her over his shoulder in confusion before he remembered it was safer
not to look at her at the moment.
    “Your
back,” she explained, obviously reading his puzzled expression. She walked over
until she was standing behind him. “I’d forgotten how awful those scars are.”
    He
swallowed and looked down into his drawer again. “You see me without a shirt
every night.”
    “But
you’re